


Prisoner of Gryffindor

by soulshrapnel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Consent Issues, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Power Imbalance, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 22:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17374184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulshrapnel/pseuds/soulshrapnel
Summary: The Gryffindor and Slytherin fleets had been at war for months, a battle raging across half the galaxy as the Gryffindors fought to reverse the Slytherins' armed takeover of the Galactic Ministry. The defeat of the SSS Ferret had gone no differently than many others. But something about the Ferret's captain had caught Harry's attention.





	Prisoner of Gryffindor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starlingthefool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlingthefool/gifts).



> Gift for a friend, who wanted Drarry, AU, and hurt/comfort.
> 
> Despite the rating and the tags, nobody in this story actually has any sex.

                Captain Harry Potter of the Gryffindor Rebel Fleet had been expecting a knock on the door of his quarters, but not this particular knock.

                He looked across the doorway, bleary from the early hour, at the pair in front of him. Hermione, his first mate, stood unsmiling with her blast-wand pointed at the prisoner beside her. A boy their own age, silver-blond and slender, shivering as if he was facing down a giant Betelgeusian dragon and not merely the young captain who'd recently captured his ship.

                The Gryffindor and Slytherin fleets had been at war for months, a battle raging across half the galaxy as the Gryffindors fought to reverse the Slytherins' armed takeover of the Galactic Ministry. The Gryffindor fleet itself was ragtag, barely more than pirates and disproportionately young, while the elders of what had once been the interplanetary Order of Gryffindor still vainly tried to solve the problem through diplomacy. Harry was one of their star commanders and had risen the ranks rapidly, disarming and capturing ship after ship and bringing their crews into Rebel Fleet custody.

                Harry took pride in taking ships without lethal violence whenever he could. The defeat of the _SSS Ferret_ had gone no differently than many others. But something about the Ferret's captain had caught Harry's attention. Young like a Gryffindor captain. Beautiful and elegant, despite the near-constant sneer on his pointed face. Harry had treated Captain Malfoy like any other Slytherin officer. He had tried not to stare; the last thing any prisoner needed was a captor with a crush. Malfoy certainly could not have returned his attraction, even without the power imbalance. Not if his snide comments throughout the capture were anything to go by. But Harry had not been able to banish the image of Malfoy from his mind. Wondering what the other captain's story was, how he had gotten here, what was going through his head. The wildly non-regulation leather pants he'd been captured in had probably not helped.

                Now Captain Draco Malfoy of the Order of Slytherin stood before him, not sneering but shivering.

                Harry glanced at Hermione in a silent query.

                "He asked to speak with you in private," Hermione supplied. Her own loathing for Malfoy was quite clear on her face. "Begged, in fact. I said I'd escort him to you, but it was up to you if you'd listen or not."

                "Okay," said Harry. "Let him in. We'll talk."

                Hermione's bushy eyebrows shot upwards. "You'll let me stand guard while you do it, of course, because you're not completely stupid. He's a Slytherin captain! There's no telling what-"

                Harry shook his head. Malfoy was bound already. He had the look of someone who had something he needed to say, but who likely wouldn't have the courage to say it here. Hermione was the best and most intelligent first mate Harry had ever encountered, but she wasn't good at interrogation; she was too impatient. More than once she had already interrupted a prisoner mid-confession with some factual correction or aside.

                "I can handle myself," said Harry. "You can stand outside. I'll shout if there's trouble."

                Hermione's answering look could have vaporised starship fuel, but she did as she was told.

                Harry had a gut feeling about this, and he'd gotten this far by trusting his gut. He just hoped it _was_ his gut talking, and not his crush on this particular Slytherin.

                Oh well. Eyes forward.

                Malfoy took a step into the room, then sank to his knees as the door swished shut, blocking Hermione from view. His hands were still bound, Harry observed, and his blast-wand was nowhere in sight, while Harry's hung reassuringly at his belt. He could deal with Malfoy if this was a ruse. But the terror and determination on the Slytherin's pale face looked very real.

                "I want," said Captain Draco Malfoy of the Order of Slytherin, "to defect."

* * *

                 Draco willed himself not to shake with fear. As usual, his will didn't accomplish much.

                Draco had been a Slytherin all his life. The most important bloodlines in the galaxy were all Slytherins. He'd been taught - had believed, unquestioningly and viciously, all through his childhood - that this made them superior. People like Captain Potter, raised by peasants, were nothing. He'd believed it all through his military training, as the other young Slytherins fawned on him, as his parents secured for him the highest possible post. As the Dark Mark was burned into his flesh. As the smoke and terror of battle haunted his nightmares. Every hesitation, every sign of weakness on his part, was punished with agony.

                Potter, though. Potter was something different. Every Slytherin captain knew to kill or torture prisoners; otherwise, how could they be kept in line? Draco had sneered and mocked him as Potter resolutely refused to do either. That was weakness. Stupidity. Perfectly matched by the other man's stupidly pretty, open, trusting, messy-haired face - a face that Draco had been dwelling on despite himself. A captain like Potter would be eaten alive by Slytherins. No doubt his own superiors in the Order of Gryffindor would do that eventually, if the Slytherin prisoners didn't rise up and do it first.

                But days had passed, and no one had risen up. Even as a prisoner, Draco had observed enough to begin to believe that the Gryffindors weren't going to crush Potter for his weakness, either. His methods got results. His crew seemed to genuinely love him.

                Unthinkable, a crew _liking_ their captain. (Loving. A word Draco did not want to use, because it conjured up unwelcome images of Potter's face, his daffy taped-together glasses, his mysterious scar, his _hair_ …)

                If Potter existed, if this was Potter's life, then there was another way.

                Potter, looking bleary and suspicious now, frowned down at him. "You want what?"

                "To defect," Draco snapped, hating that he had to say it twice. "I- I have information."

                Potter's gaze sharpened through the stupid glasses. "Information? What kind?"

                Draco took a shaky breath. He had been preparing this speech all night. "I have an encrypted document detailing my father's schedule and planned whereabouts for the next half cycle. One of them is a meeting with the Dark Lord himself. But I need-" He trailed off as Harry's face crease in confusion. What had he said wrong?

                "You need what?" said Harry, but the confusion on his face was so marked that it couldn't be the only question. "Wait, who is your father?"

                Draco was completely taken aback. "My father. Lucius Malfoy. How do you not-"

                Harry's eyes widened. "You're _that_ Malfoy's son?"

                Draco was flabbergasted. Bloodlines had been all anyone in the Slytherin ranks cared about. How could there be captains who didn't remember basic information about them?

                Harry seemed to be trying, with difficulty, to get a hold of himself. "Okay. Okay, so - I mean, Gryffindor Command will want that. Yeah. But they'll need to verify the information, and a half cycle isn't a lot of time. Why didn't you offer right away?"

                Panic flooded Draco's veins. He had expected a yes, or a request for more. He had not considered that he might be turned down. That was a disaster - worse than if he hadn't offered. He wouldn't survive that. Words spilled out of him, panicked words, destroying the little dignity he'd been trying hard to keep. "If it's not enough, I-I can - I can work for you, I can spy, I can give information on others in Slytherin command. I can - please, I'll do anything. I'll suck you off. I'll-"

                He had lunged in desperation towards Harry as he said it, clumsy because of his bound hands, and Harry suddenly scrambled backwards, holding out a hand in a "stop" gesture. Draco froze, uncertain of himself. He hadn't planned to say that part; it had slipped out. Anything, yes, anything other than go back to the brig and wait to be recaptured by Slytherin forces now that his loyalty had been compromised. Sexual favors for Potter would be nothing in comparison. He might even _enjoy_ them. More than most of the ones he'd had to do for Slytherins, at least. Potter was pretty enough, it would-

                "No," Potter said, and he seemed upset; his voice shook suddenly. "We don't do that here."

                Draco curled up on himself, too demoralized even to kneel. He had failed again, it was clear. He didn't know what more he could possibly offer. But Potter found him so repulsive, he wouldn't even accept _this_.

                Potter might know how to command a ship's crew kindly, fairly; but there was no place, after all, for Draco in a crew like that.

* * *

                 Harry stared at Malfoy's curled-up form, mortified. He had tried to hide his attraction to the Slytherin captain. Had he been obvious? So obvious that - that Malfoy thought he wanted _sexual favors_ , instead of what was good for the Order of Gryffindor and the galaxy?

                He swallowed hard. He hated how tempting it had sounded, for a second. The image of Malfoy's beautiful blond head bobbing between his legs. But - but Malfoy was his prisoner, Malfoy was clearly desperate. It would be rape, and Harry did not _do_ that. Nobody in the Order of Gryffindor did that, as far as he was concerned.

                He was suddenly, intensely enraged with himself. Malfoy didn't even like him that way, not if the first time he thought to mention sex was in the context of _please, I'll do anything._ Like some sacrifice he had finally gotten terrified enough to make. Harry shouldn't even be thinking about it in the privacy of his own head.

                With an effort, he refocused. Malfoy looked terrible now, cowering. What was it he'd said before the sex part?

                "Um," said Harry. "I just. I mean. Why -why do you want to defect?"

                Malfoy gave him a look of such helpless confusion as to make it clear there would not be an answer. Harry thought harder. He'd said he had information on Lucius Malfoy. Whatever the reason, he was desperate enough to sell out his own father. Except that hadn't even been the desperate part.

                He'd said that, and then… He'd said that he needed something.

                Harry cleared his throat. "Okay. So. I mean, yeah, we do want the information, that's, um. Useful. What did you say you needed from us in exchange?"

                Malfoy seemed only slowly to be recovering the capacity for words. "I-I need. Um. I…" His voice shriveled to a croak. "Safety."

                Harry nodded; he'd seen other Slytherin prisoners ask for the same. The Order of Slytherin could be harsh to its members, punishing disobedience and weakness severely. A lot of people wanted out for that reason, though not usually captains like Malfoy. Captains like Malfoy usually felt that they were on top of the heap. Malfoy's sneer, when he was first captured, had given every impression of that.

                "That's not hard," he said. "We take a lot of defectors. There are conditions, and you'll basically still be a prisoner. but if the other Slytherins want to hurt you, we'll keep you from them. We won't hand you over as a prisoner exchange if you don't want to go back. If you earn the Order's trust, you might go free before the war's over, or do missions for us if you want to, but I can't promise that."

                "It's more than that," Malfoy whispered.

                "What do you need?"

                Malfoy took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision. "Untie my hands. I won't hurt you."

                Harry blinked. Malfoy didn't have a blast-wand, and he didn't look like a hand-to-hand fighter. His gut told him yes, but he could already hear in his head the exasperated things Hermione would say if she knew he'd been alone with a dangerous, unrestrained prisoner.

                "Why?" he asked.

                Another breath. "Untie my hands. I need to show you my - my arm."

                All of a sudden everything clicked into place.

                "Your arm," Harry breathed. Meaning - the Dark Mark.

                Malfoy nodded miserably.

                Barely daring to move, Harry knelt on the ground beside Malfoy. He carefully entered the code to release Malfoy's wrist-cuffs. The pale boy's hands sprang free. He carefully pulled up his sleeve and presented his left forearm for inspection.

                Harry had seen the Dark Mark in files, but he had never seen one up close. The awful skull sigil was etched into Malfoy's flesh in tiny electric wires, a bone-deep, intelligent tattoo. It couldn't transmit from within the ship - the Gryffindor Rebel Fleet always blocked those frequencies, as a rule - but as soon as Malfoy was moved from vessel to vessel or into one of the Order of Gryffindor's planetside prison camps, the details of his betrayal would be transmitted directly to the Dark Lord. Punishment would be swift. The Order of Slytherin wouldn't even have to recapture him. The Mark itself could electrocute him to death from the inside.

                But the Order of Gryffindor had medics who could remove Slytherin tech. Even this kind.

                "You're a Death Eater," said Harry. The upper echelon of the Order. Far above a mere ship captain. Directly in contact with the Dark Lord himself. "Why-" The question hadn't gotten an answer before, and likely wouldn't now, but he couldn't resist it. "Why are you defecting?"

                "I didn't want to," Malfoy whispered. "I didn't want it. I just wanted to fly on a ship. But my father, he- And I didn't-"

                Harry nodded slowly, swallowing again. He'd had his own problems with the people who raised him, to put it mildly. He could imagine it now. He could imagine not even knowing that there was any other life, or at least, not for yourself.

                The Order would still have to verify Malfoy's information. Hermione, if she were listening, would remind him impatiently that this could be a ruse. Slytherins were excellent at ruses. There were others, even at the level of Death Eaters, who'd served as double agents between the Dark Lord and the Order of Gryffindor. Few in the Order were ever really sure where their loyalties lay.

                But Harry - well.

                Harry went with his gut. It had gotten him this far.

                Moving as slowly as Malfoy had, he held out his arms. He didn't mean it as anything more than a gesture of comfort, instinctive. Sex stuff was still off the table. Malfoy would still be a prisoner for a long, long time. But Harry could offer him this.

                "It's okay," he said softly, as Malfoy collapsed into him. "You're safe now. It's okay."


End file.
